


I Can't Touch My Demons, but They Can Touch Me

by erenscutiebooty



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Cutting, Depression, Eventual Smut, M/M, Self Harm, Suicide Attempt, im mean to my favorites thats just how i roll, this is very depressing im warning you now this is not a happy fic until later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:50:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erenscutiebooty/pseuds/erenscutiebooty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one cared, right? And no one ever would. That's what the voice in his head told him. He wasn't even sure if that little, cold voice was him, or something else. It seemed to be both the embodiment of his demons and the source of them. But nothing he did shut it up.</p><p>-hiatus-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Mentions of cutting and eating disorders, attempted suicide
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own SNK or any of the characters affiliated with it. I own the plot of this fic and that's it.

Eren's POV

_"You know what you are?" Her voice was a set of fangs sinking into the back of his neck and freezing him in place. Yes, he knew what she was going to say, more or less. He knew. Yet he silently begged her not to say it, to say something else and prove them all wrong. To prove his own mind wrong._

_"You're a monster. You're so messed up, I bet you're not even human."_

They all teased him, reprimanded him when he let their words hurt him. But their words weren't words, they were knives coated in poison that gave them a lasting sting that slowly faded to an ache that never really went away. When the wound healed, there was still a scar to show for it. Invisible scars piled up on each other, covering every inch of his body. It was a miracle, a curse, he didn't know which, that no one else could see them. Maybe it was just because covered them all with a fake smile so good it seemed real to everyone.

 _"I'll bet your father left because of you."_  Things like that were said with a purpose.

 _"Maybe your mom didn't die, maybe you're lying because she left you too."_  These kinds of words were said on a whim, regretted but never taken back. They didn't care enough to apologize.

No one cared, right? And no one ever would. That's what the voice in his head told him. He wasn't even sure if that little, cold voice was him, or something else. It seemed both the embodiment of his demons and the source of them. But nothing he did shut it up. Telling himself that the people in his life loved him was useless when he didn't believe it himself. They put up with him, but he saw the way they glared at him when he screwed something else up, got detention yet again, got in another fight. He didn't try to stir up trouble; trouble seemed to stir in him. He put on a smile. Maybe if he smiled enough he would actually begin to feel happy (he'd read that somewhere online, but it never worked). Maybe the lies would become truths (they didn't). It went on longer, the voice in his head got louder and those of other people got meaner.

So he tried the next logical step. He tried to bleed his demons out. He tried to hack them out of his body, a bit at a time. It always worked for a moment, the sting of pain an eraser for his thoughts and the dark blood pearling on his skin like a sigh of relief. But it was only for a moment, for many moments in quick succession until there were scars lining his wrists up to his shoulders and scattered across his hips. These ones were solid, tangible, and felt completely different from the imaginary ones left by other people. They were a different kind of pain.

He covered them with long sleeves, but occasionally someone would see. And it was always the person he wanted to hide them from the most.

_"You cut? Gross. That's pathetic. You're just seeking attention. Stop being so selfish."_

But he wasn't looking for attention. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he should reach out for help, but every time he considered telling someone what he was actually feeling that voice came back and reminded him that no one would care, that they would just dismiss it all as "attention-seeking lies".

The same thing happened when he tried to eat less, until it got to the point where he consumed nothing more than water some days (nowadays he ate more, keeping up appearances so as not to worry Mikasa or Amrin or Rivaille, but food had stopped tasting like anything long ago).

His life had never been all darkness, though. There were rays of light, little suns that he revolved around. But anything that made him happy was used against him, warped until it changed from a precious gem into a blade against his throat.

Sometimes, their jaded words struck dead center.

_"Why do you always cling around him? He's weird. Do you like him? Faggot."_

Was it really so wrong? Of course it was, everything about him was wrong. That's why he never said anything (even when Rivaille let out that so rarely heard beautiful laugh and his lips looked so kissable Eren though he was going to explode), covered it all up with that painted smile and fake laugh he eventually perfected. Even when he got older and people at school stopped being so verbal and just ignoring him and shooting him dirty looks. Even when it felt like he was breathing through a pillow and walking on knives, he kept up a happy face. He tried drowning everything and keeping it pent-up, letting it all out later alone with his blades.

But that could never go on forever. He knew that, and the voice in his head murmured that to him every day. He was a burden on everyone, wasting what little money Mikasa and he had to pay for the college he might as well never have applied to. He wasn't even sure what he was doing, why he was still here.

Why he hadn't done this before now.

 _Bzzt. Bzzt._  Eren glanced down at his phone, unsurprised to find another text from Mikasa. _How're you feeling? Still sick?_  I can buy some medicine after class. Eren sighed, picking up his phone, telling her that he'd found some behind the bathroom mirror. He wasn't ill, not physically. His stepsister needed to stop wasting her money on him. Even if he was actually sick, he wouldn't be around to take any pills this afternoon. Besides, he already had plenty.

Plenty enough to get the job done.

He didn't even know if this would work, but he had to try. If he failed, he would create an even bigger mess for everyone. But the door to his and Mikasa's shared flat was locked, and she wouldn't be home until far later. The pills would kick in by then, right? His phone went off again. Okay. If you feel better try to study a bit. Eren sighed softly and responded with a simple _K, thanks Mikasa._

It was a little weird thinking that was the last text he'd ever send her. He set his phone down on the counter next to the single folded sheet of paper that was his only note and sat down on the toilet lid, opening the bottle of sleeping pills with shaky hands. _Why are you shaking? Are you scared of dying?_

No. He wanted this, he didn't, but he did. It'd be better when he was gone.

_You're scared._

Maybe he was, a little bit. But it wouldn't matter in a little while. He poured some of the little blue pills into his palm, dropping one. He picked it up gingerly and stared at it for a few long moments before taking a deep breath and popping the first few into his mouth, falling over the edge of doubt.

 _That's it. Swallow them. It's too late to turn back now, keep going. Keep going._  The voice in his head blocked everything else out, egging him on until it too faded and it was mindless repetition. It was going to be over, finally over, his joke of a life was finally ending...

_I'm so tired..._

Rivaille's POV

Something wasn't right.

Mikasa had given him her key and a bag of stuff to give Eren, telling him that he would be home and probably awake. He'd come to their flat, where he'd been plenty of times before, expecting Eren to be totally fine after a day of being "sick", sitting on the couch and playing video games or something. But when he walked in, the house was silent. And clean (not to his standards, of course, but after a day of Eren lounging around the place was usually a dump). He announced his presence, left the bag of medicine on the counter and wandered through the place, peeking his head into both bedrooms in search of life.

Rivaille was worried now. He tried texting him a few times, eventually hearing a buzzing noise from behind the closed door to his bathroom.  _What, is he taking a shit or something?_  He knocked on the door, waiting for a reply...

None came.

"Eren? You in there?" No answer. He tried the handle, found it unlocked and entered, deciding that if he walked in on him passed out on the toilet he'd take a picture and use it for blackmailing purposes later...

He was pretty sure his heart had stopped. Or maybe the whole world. Maybe the entire universe had imploded, collapsed into a black hole with Rivaille as the center. His thought process came to an abrupt halt and ice coursed through his body instead of blood. Whatever he'd been expecting, it was not to find Eren collapsed on the floor, an empty medicine bottle by his hand and a few blue pills scattered around him. Rivaille's first movements were jerky, hesitant as he took a few steps and bent over to pick up the bottle that had once held...sleeping pills.

And then all slowness was gone and he wasn't even thinking anymore he was just moving, acting on instinct because this fucking idiot had swallowed almost an entire bottle of sleeping pills and fuck he was going to be violently sick or paralyzed for days or die no he couldn't die not Eren- He was already dialing the number, barking out the situation in a tone that was panicked and sharp, his breaths shaky when he finally remembered to take them, his entire body shivering because he hadn't expected this. Rivaille, who was so calm and collected was falling apart at the seams, going hysterical as more time passed and the idiot woman on the other end of the phone tried to calm him down, that someone was on the way because fuck what if they were too late, what the fuck was even happening, why had Eren done this why?

Now he shoved that damned bottle, Eren's phone, and the paper next to it in his pocket, lifted the damned idiot off of the ground and headed down to where the ambulance would be any minute now, they had to be there soon because who knew how long he'd been lying there for, who knew how many of those fucking pills he'd taken, who knew how long he'd been thinking about this... but he didn't have time to feel guilty now.

So he just moved, passed Eren to the paramedics and snapped at them to be careful, for fuck's sake, because Eren was fragile even though he pretended not to be and he was precious even though Rivaille acted like he wasn't. God, why hadn't he ever told him that? Maybe this wouldn't have happened, maybe if he'd told Eren how much he needed him he wouldn't have done this...

But now was not the time for guilt, now was the time to text Mikasa the details in short sentences as the ambulance rushed to the hospital. Her response was equally clipped, and Rivaille knew she was panicking at the other end of the phone. The paramedics asked him a few questions and he answered in a strained monotone, looking down at his hands. They were shaking. He was scared.

Scared, because Eren could die. Scared, because he hadn't had any idea that Eren felt like he had to do this. Scared, because who knew how long he'd been struggling with this. Rivaille was scared and hoping, praying to a god he didn't really believe in that Eren was going to keep breathing, that his heart would keep pumping oxygen through his drugged body until his system cleared and he woke up and kept living. Rivaille couldn't just lose him.

He couldn't.

There was someone sitting next to him, repeatedly assuring him that Eren would be okay until they got to the hospital. Rivaille wasn't sure if he believed her, but those words still calmed him enough so he could think. His hand slid into his pocket and his fingertips ran over the crisp edge of the folded paper he'd picked up whilst running on autopilot. It's his note, right? He withdrew his hand like he'd been burned, placing it over his knee. There was no way he could read that, not now. Maybe not ever. He'd give it to Mikasa when she got to the hospital.

His thoughts soon spiraled down to focus on one sentence, repeating over and over in his mind: _I'm sorry, we'll be there soon_. He breathed it again and again like a mantra, not caring if the woman sitting next to him heard.

_Eren I'm so, so sorry._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting the chapters I already have written over the next few days. I'm sorry for cliffhangers, but you know...they're really useful.

Eren's POV

The first thing he was aware of was how dry his mouth was and how fuzzy his head felt. Slowly, he became aware of a beeping noise and the distant sound of muffled voices and light behind his closed eyes. They slid open, his vision coming into focus too slowly for his liking. He was met with a tiled ceiling. But it wasn't familiar.  _Where am I?_  It smelled weird, like antiseptic, and his body felt fuzzy, numb…

He could only lie helplessly still when his memories hit him like a truck. He  _wished_  a truck would hit him. That fate would be better than the one that he was living. He knew where he was: the hospital. Someone had found him before he wanted to be found, and how he wished they hadn't. Didn't they  _understand_? He hadn't just randomly decided he was done with life. He'd done it purposefully. He didn't want to be here, fuck, who had saved him and why had they done it, how could they be so selfish? Couldn't they have just left him to die? He was already a burden on everyone, didn't they see that? He wanted to be dead he wanted to be  _gone_.

 _Or am I the selfish one? Why would they save me? Who was it? I should be dead. Why am I not dead?_  He felt sick, and he didn't know if it was because of the overdose, his thoughts or both. Tears pricked at the back of his eyes.  _What, are you going to cry? Weak. That's why people say mean things to you. You're too weak to deal even with yourself._

Eren's tears probably would've welled up and spilled over if his door hadn't opened then, revealing a pudgy nurse with soft, rounded features, carrying a tray of who knew what. She looked surprised to see his eyes open, but broke into a smile after a moment silence.

"Oh good, you're up. You're recovering quite quickly, thank God." She sounded happy, but he was not. The nurse bustled at his bedside, still talking. "I need to run some tests now, and I'm sure you want to eat, but we don't know if you can hold anything down yet. Your system isn't cleared all the way."

Eren opened his mouth, searching for his voice. It was weak. "It's fine. I'm not hungry." It wasn't a lie, for once.

The nurse gave him a long look, mouth turned up in a sad little smile. "You've had a lot of visitors. There's a few people who haven't left in the three days you've been here. So many are worried for you, dear. They'll be so happy to know you're awake."

 _Three days…_  Eren didn't know what to say, so he just looked off to the side and nodded. His eyes fell on a bag sitting on the chair by his bed, his bag. The nurse followed his gaze and nodded. "Your sister brought that for you."  _Mikasa...she's been here, of course she has. Anyone else, I wonder?_  He wasn't sure if he was hoping that he'd had other visitors or praying that he hadn't.

"Do you think you're up to some visitors? Family first, of course… Your sister has been really worried about you."

"Step-sister," he half-heartedly corrected. "Yeah, it's fine." He didn't want to see Mikasa. He didn't want to see her face or hear her voice, because both would be broken. She would blame herself, because she felt responsible for him. But he supposed he had no choice, knowing he would have to face her at some point or another. The nurse smiled sweetly and nodded once more before leaving the room. Eren had a few moments alone, taking in his surroundings as his head cleared. The room was plain, a typical hospital room. He hadn't noticed until now that he was hooked up to an IV, which was flooding his system with who knew what. It was probably dripping meds and fluids into him, keeping him alive...Was he still weak enough? He'd only just woken up, if he ripped it out would he go unconscious again? Would he actually die this time?

He didn't have time to think about his options anymore, because the nurse was back with Mikasa, who gave off an aura of uncertainty and anxiety.  _So unlike her. I've caused more trouble than I'm worth, again. But it's worse this time, isn't it._  The nurse murmured something to her and left again, softly shutting the door. Mikasa didn't say anything as she set Eren's bag on the floor so she could pull up the chair and sit. There was a short silence. "How are you feeling?" She spoke softly, quietly.

Eren assumed she meant physically. Hoped she meant physically, and even if she didn't, that's the answer she was getting. "I'm tired. A little sore, I guess," he rasped. His voice sounded weird, but maybe it was just to him.

Mikasa nodded. "I'm so...so relieved, Eren." She reached forward and took his hand, clasping it in both of hers as if checking to prove he was really there. "Thank God you're okay. Eren, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should've realized something, I should've been able to help you before you felt like you had to do this, I should've…"

Eren cut her off with a faint squeeze.  _Stop. Stop, I can't stand to hear that._  "Mikasa. This isn't your fault." He wanted to continue, to tell her the truth, that this was all because he was weak and a burden on everyone and a waste of her money (between the two of them they had just enough to get by, even with Mikasa working a part-time job) and everything else that had led him to do this, but he could already hear her trying to take the blame off of him and onto herself. So all he could do was tell her half of it, the half she wanted to hear even if she didn't know she wanted to. He would tell her what he would tell everyone else, because that's what was expected and proper. "Really. I promise."

She looked up at him, obviously trying to hold back tears. "I thought I'd _lost_  you, Eren. You're my only family, I was so scared. I could've done something to help you, but I didn't because I'd just blindly believed everything was okay if we had each other and I'm sorry and I won't make the same mistake again. I'm not going to let you deal with any of this alone, okay?"

"Okay." He loved her like he always had, like he had even when she babied him or treated him like he was years younger than him, though they were actually equal in age, and when she berated him for getting into fights even if it wasn't his fault. He knew she was trying to help, he knew she loved him too and that they were supposed to always have each other's backs because that's what siblings did... But no matter what anyone said or tried to do, he'd always be alone with the voice in his head and the demons in his chest. He'd always be alone because no one else knew what it felt like to have your own thoughts turn against you and whisper lies so many times they became truths.

But he could never say any of this aloud, because the monsters in him kept his mouth shut and throat dry, put fluffy words on his tongue so he passed off as "healthy". He could only promise others that it wasn't their fault (it wasn't, really) and he was going to be okay (he wasn't). That's what he was supposed to do.

Mikasa put her head down on the bed, still gently holding Eren's hand. Her shoulders shook and he knew she was crying now, unable to hide it. "I didn't want you to be so upset," he murmured. Although that voice liked to tell him no one would miss him, he knew Mikasa would, at the very least, and Armin (and he liked to hope Rivaille, but that was wishful thinking, wasn't it?). But they would move on quickly, because they would begin to see how much easier their lives would be without him. He wanted to stop Mikasa's tears, to console her and promise he wouldn't hurt her like this again.

But that would be lying right to her face, and he'd done that enough in his life, he figured.

There was a soft rap on the door, and then it opened again. The nurse stuck her head in. "Can I let two more people in now?" Eren nodded, and she stepped aside to let Armin and Rivaille in.

Eren really hadn't expected Rivaille to be here. He didn't want him to be here. Maybe he did; he didn't really know. Nonetheless, he managed a weak hint of a smile. "Hi," he murmured. Mikasa still hadn't lifted her head, but she wasn't shaking anymore. She didn't let go of Eren's hand, either. Armin came right to his side and took the other, threading their fingers together for a moment before releasing them.

"Hi Eren. How's the bed?"

His smile was a little more genuine, mostly because he didn't have to answer the question "How do you feel?" again. "Not that great," he decided after a moment.

"Well, the doctors said that you shouldn't have to be in here for more than a few days after you wake up, so you just have to bear with it for a little longer." Armin's voice was shaking, just a little. "You'll be going home...I was scared...you wouldn't be," he murmured. "It was Rivaille, you know," he murmured, casting a glance behind him. "He found you in time. Thank  _God_  he found you."

Eren's voice was gone, stuck somewhere in his throat. A jumble of too many mixed emotions hit him all at once. He hadn't  _wanted_  to be found in time. He hadn't wanted Rivaille to be the one to find him (preferably, no one would ever find him and he would just fade away, but that was impossible). But Rivaille had found him, he'd saved him, and that meant  _something_ , right?  _No, it doesn't. Stop being conceited. He did what anyone would do if they found someone dying on the floor._  Eren wished he could tear his brain out of his head.

He looked down, only now realizing his arms were bare from just below his shoulders down, revealing the multitude of scars on his skin, the pale lines of old ones and the scabbing ridges of ones made just days ago. He pulled his free arm closer to his body, turning the other one over so the marks were hidden.  _Some time to be self-conscious._

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Rivaille spoke. "I'm glad you're awake." His words were clipped and weary. Eren glanced up at him, now noticing the heavy shadows under his eyes that signaled little sleep. Armin sprouted them too, although less prominent. Mikasa, who was now sitting up, looked equally exhausted. Eren felt awful; he'd just made things so much worse.

Armin broke the silence. "Hanji and Erwin came by earlier; they're the only ones who know besides us. They'll be really relieved to know you're awake now."  _Come on, they came just for Rivaille. They care about him, not you. They have no reason to._  Eren wished he was still unconscious. At least that voice had been silent then.

"Tell them I said hi," he managed. He scrambled to think of something else to say, but he didn't have to. The door to his room opened again, revealing the nurse laden down with a tray of food. She bustled in, leaving the door open.

"I'm sorry, but you all need to go now. He needs to eat and rest, and it'd be better if you were all out of here." Mikasa looked like she wanted to argue with her, but Eren cut her off with a gentle squeeze.

"Go home and sleep," he murmured, looking at Mikasa but addressing all of them. They were obviously exhausted, and he knew that Mikasa and Armin had been skipping their classes, Rivaille his job. The nurse was right, too. He wanted to be alone right now; he'd just woken up and he needed a moment to collect himself. It was hard to keep his eyes open when he'd expected them to stay closed forever. But until he was alone, he didn't have the freedom to sift through his jumbled thoughts. Now he had to do what he'd been doing his whole life: lie through his teeth and assure everyone with a smile. "Really, I'm okay. Just tired."

None of them believed him, of course. Why would they now? "I'll see you tomorrow," promised Mikasa. "Eat, sleep."

"I will." That much he could promise truthfully, right? Maybe not; even the small amount of food the nurse was hovering over made his insides churn in protest. He wasn't hungry, and even if he was, he didn't think he'd want to eat. Food would give him energy, sustenance that would restore his physical health and keep his systems running. Bland soup and bread looked utterly disgusting and _no_  he did  _not_  want to eat that.

He looked away, realizing that his face was clearly displaying his disgust at the thought of eating. He forced his lips to curve into another smile that almost certainly didn't reach his eyes as the three of them headed out. Rivaille was the last to leave, and he glanced back as he left the room. "I'll text you later."

"'Kay." Rivaille looked like he wanted to say more, lingering in the doorway with his mouth open, but he didn't. He shut the door softly behind him, and Eren found himself wishing he could have stayed. But Rivaille looked like he'd wanted nothing more than to get out of his room, to get away from the hospital, and Eren.

It stung a little, but it wasn't unexpected.

The nurse attended to him now, firing too many questions at him and asking if he was sore or if his head and throat hurt and if he thought he could keep food down. He tiredly answered her queries with one and two-word answers, turning down the food she offered him despite his earlier promises. He agreed to down a little juice just to please her so she would finally leave him alone.

His exhaustion came crashing down on him as soon as she left, leaving no time for him to think about things or try to get his head on straight (as if it ever had been). Instead, he fell into a less than peaceful sleep punctured by dreams that mostly involved Eren sitting alone in an expanse of no one except that voice for company.

_Now look at the mess you've made. You should have died a long time ago. You should be dead. You should be rotting in Hell, not surrounded by people you've deceived into caring about you. You should be dead._

When he woke up, he was more worn out than before and he never wanted to fall asleep again.

Rivaille's POV

Eren didn't look like himself.

He was pale and sickly and tired, obviously, but that wasn't what sent daggers straight into Rivaille's chest. It was his eyes. They looked _lifeless_ , and the dark smudges under them didn't help. The only thing Rivaille could say to pin exactly how Eren appeared to him was that he did  _not_  look like he wanted to be alive at all. It wasn't obvious, but his distress showed in the way he looked at them when they first walked in the door, how he eyed food with disgust and how his pathetic attempts at reassuring smiles didn't affect anything other than his lips.

But it'd been stupid of Rivaille to even hope he'd be happy to see them. Eren had tried to  _end his life_ , for fuck's sake. People don't magically feel better when they wake up in the hospital after a failed suicide attempt, after who knew how long he'd been turning the idea around in his mind. The doctor had already given the number of a therapist, who Eren was going to be seeing as soon as he was released from the hospital (which would be in a few days, now that he'd woken up), and Rivaille could only hope that they would be able to help Eren.

Rivaille was sure Eren hated him at this point. He could have done  _something_ , right? He should've been able to see how unhealthily skinny he was (carrying him hadn't been a strain at all, and the doctor had confirmed him to be very underweight). He should've noticed the way his smiles didn't really reach his eyes (it was painfully obvious now). How come he hadn't ever noticed anything, when he was around Eren so much? He was so angry, not at Eren but at himself. He told himself he cared about Eren, but how could he say that when he hadn't bothered to look close enough and see how he actually felt?

 _Because_ , Rivaille thought bitterly as he stared out the window of Mikasa's car,  _I was content with what I saw, right? I didn't want anything to be wrong so I didn't bother trying to make sure everything really was. Fuck this._

And he knew he looked like he had wanted to be anywhere but Eren's hospital room, because he had. But not because of Eren, because he felt guilty and he didn't know what to do. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams, which made no sense because he was always calm and kept himself together but he'd almost lost Eren and that scared him, and he was scared he was still going to lose him even now.

And it was his fault.

He hadn't really calmed down since finding Eren on the bathroom floor. He hadn't slept for more than a few minutes of dozing off out of pure mental and physical exhaustion, but otherwise he'd been too nervous and his thoughts too chaotic to rest. Mikasa and Armin were in a similar state, and by some silent agreement they decided to stay together and ended up at Eren and Mikasa's apartment. Rivaille didn't want to be back here, but it was closer to the hospital than Rivaille's place, and Armin lived in the dorms on campus.

As soon as they entered, Mikasa absorbed herself with cooking something and Armin picked up a book and sat on the couch, opening it to the first page and staring blankly, quite obviously not reading. Rivaille stood near the doorway for a few drawn out moments, before falling into his habit of cleaning.

Dirty environments bothered him normally, but when he was nervous or otherwise emotionally unstable he cleaned more than usual. His behavior sometimes bordered on OCD, according to a half-joking Hanji, but when he was anxious he was plain out ridiculous. He would use an entire bottle of windex cleaning and re-cleaning every smooth surface of his flat when it got really bad. Now, he was intent to clean the entire apartment until it shone, and neither Mikasa or Armin said anything to stop him when he got the cleaning supplies out (which was good, because he probably would've snapped if he'd been forced to just sit there).

So he cleaned, pausing only when Mikasa shoved plates of pasta at him and Armin and threatened to shove the food down their throats if they didn't eat (none of them had eaten very much over the past three days), and then Armin fell asleep with the TV on, Mikasa studying on the couch next to him. Rivaille still cleaned, done with the kitchenette and living room now and moving back through the house, leaving Mikasa's already pristine room in peace (it was impressive how orderly she was, and Rivaille decided he didn't need to root through her stuff to get to the dust that had gathered in the corners) to pick up the clothes that covered Eren's floor.

His room was disgusting by Rivaille's standards, although it really wasn't  _that_  horrible. There was just a lot of clothing lying around, drawers hanging open and his bed unmade. Rivaille threw all the clothes that weren't put away properly in the hamper, which meant most of what Eren owned was going in the wash. Instead of bothering to make his bed, he decided to just wash his sheets as well, because the difference between Eren's standards of "it's still clean" and his own was ginormous.

He was putting Eren's dresser back in order when a glint of metal in the top drawer caught his eye. Rivaille paused, reaching in and shifting a pair of mismatched socks out of the way. It took him a solid ten seconds to figure out what he was looking at. He hissed a curse when he did and pulled the little plastic box out of the drawer, resisting the urge to throw it out the window and instead opening it and pulling out of of the metal blades.

Rivaille wanted to smash them, wanted to destroy the damn things. "Fuck, Eren, fuck goddammit." He turned the razor over in his fingers, feeling sick. He _hated_  this, hated himself, because here was proof that there was more evidence he could have picked up on but he  _hadn't_ , hadn't thought anything was off when Eren wore long sleeves in ninety degree whether or when he asked Armin not to wrap his arm around his shoulders because he'd slept on them wrong. He wanted to go back to the hospital and find every scar on Eren's body and erase it, but there was no way to do that.

Rivaille didn't think he could feel any worse than he had, but this was different. Because even if Eren got better for good, even if this was the worst of it all and Eren would only get happier from here on out (which wouldn't happen, Rivialle knew), he'd always have the scars he'd made on his body, and maybe Rivaille could have done something but now, now he was far too late and he'd fucked up and he  _hated_  this.

_Fuck, fuck, I'm sorry._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im usually obnoxiously talkative but because i already have these written I'm not saying much. Well soon enough I'll be annoying the heck out of you with my ranting before (and sometimes after) each chapter...I always say I'm not going to go on and on but I do anyway ^^'

Eren's POV

As soon as he could keep things down, he was downing meds left and right. The nurse didn't specify what they were when he asked (already knowing their purpose, of course), only telling him that they would make him feel better, even if he didn't think so. Eren didn't want to take them, but considering he didn't have much of a choice (or any way to fake it under the hawk-like eyes of the nurses) he decided to take them willingly and see if they actually,  _maybe_ , could do something for him.

It didn't take him very long to notice a difference, but it wasn't one he was looking for. They numbed him, but they didn't keep him from hearing the constant mutterings in his mind. But it wasn't like a pill could make him want to give into the urge to breathe, make him feel like he was a living thing and not the broken piece of some old toy. If anything, the meds numbed what little sense of living he had left. But he didn't have a lot of time to think about that, because the meds made him sleepy. He fell in and out of a weird sort of dreamless haze, waking up to force more cardboard mush down his throat topped off with another round of pills every so often.

It'd been a day according to his nurse, but it felt like it had been both eons longer and shorter to him when they changed his dosage. He no longer felt tired all the time, which left his thoughts to prey on him for hours on end. He was restless, sitting around in bed all day. He was sure he could leave and be fine (physically, at least) by now, but the doctor told him he had yet to fully recover.

The doctor also told him he'd be starting therapy as soon as he was out of the hospital, and that he wasn't going to stop numbing himself with pills for a while. Dr. Brzenska wasn't as agreeable as the nurses that took care of him; she tried to convince Eren that therapy and meds would do him good because they'd make him happier so he could go back to a healthy life again.

Which was ridiculous, of course, because his life had never really been  _healthy_. He'd been dealing with depression almost his entire life, even if he'd rarely (if ever) thought of it like a disorder or illness that could be labeled until now, when people were telling him that's what it was.

Eren sighed, scrolling through his old messages aimlessly, having nothing better to do than mess with his phone and wait half-heartedly for someone to text him. The hospital was, to put it simply, boring and depressing. The smell of antiseptic had probably stuck itself in his nose permanently, and the atmosphere made him uneasy. Rivaille probably loved how clean and orderly and quiet the place was, but Eren did not. He missed his own bed and his messy room and his music and the few people he could call friends, if he felt daring enough.

His phone buzzed, pulling him out of his thoughts. It wasn't who he was hoping for, though. It was Sasha, asking if he, Amrin, and Mikasa were busy. Eren stared at the message for a long while, before slowly moving to respond. Mikasa and Armin were free as far as he knew, but he wasn't feeling well. It was believable. It was definitely easier to comprehend than the truth was.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm in the hospital after a failed suicide attempt" probably wouldn't go over very well. And he didn't need more people knowing about this and worrying about him and telling him to "stay strong". He wasn't strong, that's why he was here now. If he was a strong person, this wouldn't have happened. He never would have gotten like this in the first place. It was because he was weak that he'd become so messed up.

His phone buzzed again.  _Okay Eren, feel better soon!_  Eren let his head loll back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling. He wished he could be as carefree as Sasha, living a life consisting of simple things like school, food, and her boyfriend Connie (the two of them fit together like puzzle pieces). But he was stuck with a knife lodged in his side, and he was clearly too weak to pull it out himself. That's what it all came down to: him being weak. If he hadn't been weak, he wouldn't let words hurt him. He wouldn't have attempted suicide.

His thoughts were repetitive, running circles in his mind because he had nothing else to do but run the same things over again and again.

. . .

"...And so you'll be starting therapy on Saturday. Make sure to take your meds every day. Your prescription may change later, depending on how therapy works for you." Dr. Brzenska turned to Mikasa, handing her the bag with his pills in it. "I suggest he takes it easy for the next few days," he continued like Eren wasn't right there. "Don't leave him alone for too long, try to get him back into his normal life as quickly as possible. He'll be happier if things settle down quickly."

Eren never wanted to punch someone in the throat more than he did then. What, did she think he was going to try and jump off the nearest building as soon as he got out of here? Did she honestly think his life had ever been what she would call "normal"? Did she really think he wanted to hear what she was saying to Mikasa? He wasn't an idiot. The pills, the therapy, the things the nurses said outside his door when they thought he was asleep...they liked to think they were helping to mend the broken pieces, but they were really just covering everything up so no one had to look at the mess that he was.

The way Dr. Brzenska could talk about him like he was so broken that it didn't matter what people said, like he wouldn't hear it, infuriated him. He didn't need to be babysat. He didn't need Mikasa to waste their money on meds and therapy and his stupid hospital bill that he didn't even want to know the cost of because it was definitely ridiculous. It was a waste of time and money, because he doubted anyone could really do anything at this point.

He would try, though. He would take his pills, go to therapy, try to bury the monsters under layers of numbness. He would do it for Mikasa, because of how her voice sounded so trusting on the drive home from the hospital. He would do it for Armin, because he was the same quiet kid Eren and Mikasa had beaten up bullies for. And, if he stuck around, he'd do it for Rivaille…

I _f he even wants to hang around you after all the trouble you've caused._  Eren visibly flinched, shaking his head dismissively when Mikasa shot him a quizzical glance from the driver's seat.

Maybe the therapist would have a pill to keep him from thinking.

_Maybe you'll stop being so upset all the time._

Maybe the therapist would be able to help him.

_But you'll never get rid of the sickness in you, you know that._

Mikasa put a plate of leftover pasta on the table in front of him as soon as they walked in the door, telling him to eat it all. He swallowed tasteless bite after tasteless bite, wishing he could swallow his thoughts down as well. It was unfair that thoughts had no tangible form but they could still get the better of him, still cut him up on the inside. There was no way he could get back at them without beating himself up in the process.

But that was why the scars that laced up his arms and hips existed, because the only way to shut the voice up, to let him feel something more akin to human than the pathetic thing he was was to slice open his skin, because pain and blood were human things. It was usually enough to make just a few new scars, just to remind him that he was still alive… But sometimes it wasn't and he couldn't stop dragging the blade across his skin, putting more and more hatred into each movement because he really did _loathe_  how weak he was, how easily he succumbed to what other people said, to his own mind. He didn't deserve the time his friends wasted on him, Mikasa didn't deserve him as her only family, he didn't deserve to be a waste of space on this godforsaken planet anymore.

But he'd messed up. He'd messed up big, and now it was worse. He wanted to tell Mikasa not to even bother paying for therapy and pills and all of that but it wouldn't do any good.  _If I try, will I actually get somewhere? Maybe it's not totally hopeless. Do I even dare to hope?_

Something in him did, despite everything he hated about himself, because now he couldn't try to hide it (even though it would've been better if none of them ever found out). Something in him, probably just the instinctual will to survive, wanted to grab onto the dismally small chance he had, and seeing as he didn't really have a choice because Mikasa would give up school just to make sure he took his meds and went to therapy...he would try to reach for that chance.

_But you'll fail and you already know it. Eventually you'll be dragging people down with you. You're only prolonging the inevitable._

Eren still wished Rivaille hadn't found him in the bathroom.

. . .

His therapist Mina was, thankfully, completely different from Dr. Brzenska. She didn't talk about him to Mikasa when he was standing right next to her, and she seemed a lot nicer in general. She didn't pester him with a billion questions right away, either. And her questions were easy enough to answer; not many of them were about "touchy" subjects or whatever. Mostly, she asked him about Mikasa and college and his parents (which she avoided as soon as he mentioned his mom was dead and his good-for-nothing father was long gone) and his friends and his interests and if he was in a relationship and how much sleep he usually got. It was easy enough to answer most of her questions honestly, and to bend the truth a little when it was called for.

Eren hadn't really been paying attention to the time and only realized that their hour was almost up when Mina put her clipboard aside and leaned forward on her elbows. "You know Eren, you seem like a pretty good person. I can tell that some of what you said wasn't completely true, but you seem to have answered me pretty honestly. I'm going to tell you what I know: you're not made up of your illness. You're a person with interests and passions and flaws and talents. Try not to forget that."

Eren looked at her for a long moment. "Okay."

She smiled and stood, opening the door. "Alright, I need to talk to your sister for a minute. Could you send her in?" Eren nodded and left the room, not even needing to look for Mikasa because she was already walking up to him. Before she could speak, he jerked his head back towards Mina.

"She wants to talk to you." Mikasa hesitated, but Eren waved her along. He sat in the corner of the small waiting room next to a tank full of brightly colored fish. He watched as a small blue one floated lazily towards the top. It hung aimlessly in the corner of the tank, facing away from the fish swimming around below it. It bumped a few times against the glass, then just drifting there as if dazed.  _Hey fish, don't you like your tank? Or do you feel trapped in there? Maybe we're the same; we both want out of our current lives._

Maybe he was more screwed up than they thought; maybe he was insane. That would explain why he was acting as though a fish had some telepathic connection with him.

He looked up when he heard the door open, surprised at how quickly Mina had finished talking to Mikasa. Mikasa looked a little less worried than before, which made Eren feel better. Even if he was going to be causing so much trouble, he didn't want anyone to worry about him too much.

"Alright Eren, I'll see you next week. Good luck with your classes this week."

"Bye," he said with a nod, following Mikasa out of the building. Bells chimed as the door shut behind them.

"How was it?" Mikasa asked on the way to the car.

"Fine."

"I think she's nice. A lot nicer than Dr. Brzenska was." Eren nodded in agreement. "Anyway, I talked to some of the people in your classes and got copies of the notes from the lectures you missed. They're at home."

"You didn't have to do that...thanks." Mikasa really got on his case about school; she worked to pay for Eren's titution instead of her own until Eren threatened to not go altogether if she didn't put herself first. He'd had a part-time job until recently, and Mikasa was working at the coffee shop she'd been at for almost a year, so they had enough money for now. Eren wanted to put Mikasa's dreams before his (she wanted to be a doctor, and Eren still didn't really know where his life was heading. If he was going to do anything, he would probably go into be forensic science, but it was hard to think about the future when thinking about the following day gave him a headache), but Mikasa had other plans. "You need to do well now so you can be successful later," she'd told him countless times.

But the future didn't sound very good to Eren, and he didn't like thinking about it because it always ended in him worrying too much about one thing or another.

His phone buzzed, jerking him out of his thoughts. _Was the therapy building as stuffy as the hospital?_  Eren's mouth turned up into a slight smirk at Rivaille's text. He hadn't realized he'd been hoping Rivaille would talk to him.

_No, it was disgustingly clean though. And quiet. You would've loved it._

_I prefer my flat, thank you. I know who's been touching what there._

Eren rolled his eyes. _Cleanfreak._

_Call me what you will. You should thank me; I cleaned your room._

_Yeah, I noticed. Much appreciated. Now I can't find anything._  He could, of course, but he decided to give Rivaille a hard time about it.

_Please. It's probably already a dump again._

Eren grinned.  _Sorry._

_You're not. I'll see you later. Glasses is dragging me out to some stupid movie._

_Bye._  Eren felt a pang of jealousy, as absurd as it was. It'd be fun to see a movie with Rivaille, which he'd done before but that was ages ago and Petra had come too (not that he didn't like Petra, of course). But... if it was just Rivaille and Hanji, wasn't that like a date? They were pretty close, weren't they? And Hanji was his age, while Eren was almost ten years younger than Rivaille.

Eren suppressed a sigh, looking away from his phone.  _I shouldn't be jealous. I've never had a chance anyway._

It would've been nice to fall for someone he could actually hope for, though.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changing from Rivaille to Levi next chapter because that's what I keep writing (I only use Levi outside of this fic so I'm more used to it. Oh well) ^^' So much for consistency.

Rivaille's POV

He'd taken them, and now he had the box in his hands: Eren's blades.

Mikasa had told him to take them when he showed her. He'd waited until Armin left (he had a tutoring session at the library or something), because he figured that this was something very few people needed to know about, before handing it to her and telling her in a few hollow words that he'd found it in Eren's room. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up with them in his possession, but Mikasa had asked him in a broken voice to take them out of the apartment. He understood; she couldn't just throw them away, but she couldn't keep them near Eren (and if he lied enough, she might relent and give them to him, Rivaille wasn't sure). Rivaille had planned to toss them, but when he'd gotten home he'd realized there was no way he could do that.

So he'd stuck them in a drawer, and so he was here, leaning against the counter and turning the little box over and over in his hands. He wished he could believe that he could stop Eren from inflicting pain on himself as long as he had his means of doing so, but no, he knew, he knew how easy it was to find new means of drawing blood. Even if he didn't have these, Eren could find needles, or pencil sharpeners, a pen, a knife, even his own teeth or nails if nothing else. Rivaille knew it wouldn't stop, even if Mikasa said that Eren was doing well (surprisingly so), because it was addictive. He knew, because he'd seen people slowly destroy themselves, and he knew because once he'd been just a little too close to attempting the same thing.

Eren wasn't going to get better quickly. And Rivaille...he should've been able to notice something before it got to this point. He spent enough time with Eren, it should've been obvious...Eren didn't want anyone to know. _It's not your fault._  Logic tried to reason with him, but guilt was clawing at his insides. Part of it was that he genuinely cared for the brat (which, he realized, had become more of a nickname than anything when it came to Eren), more than he'd ever meant to. He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to call his feelings, but they didn't end at affectionate and that was a problem. It wasn't hard to hide his confusion, but he knew it wouldn't be good if he ended up with a "crush" or whatever on Eren. He couldn't dump such feelings on someone so unstable, and he really didn't want to ruin their relationship.

Rivaille sighed, shutting the box back in it's drawer. It wasn't healthy to overthink things like this. He ran a hand through his hair looking around the kitchenette aimlessly. He'd already thoroughly cleaned his entire flat three times, then showered, and even he wasn't about to do that again. But he couldn't just sit here…

He jumped when his phone buzzed loudly on the counter, breaking the silence that he'd been stewing in for the past hour. He stared at it like he'd never seen it in his life for a moment before checking it, slightly irked by...Hanji. Hanji, who was apparently already driving over to "take him out before he cleaned his apartment for the umpteenth time". He had to give it to her; that damn woman knew him well. Rivaille sighed at her lack of consideration for his own plans (although he had none) and slipped his phone in his pocket, fetching his wallet and shrugging his jacket on right as the doorbell rung. It didn't stop ringing until he opened to door.

"You could knock. Once."

She disregarded his annoyance. "Good, you're ready. Erwin's in the car. We're going to the bar."

"Why?" Rivaille stepped out, locking the door behind him.

"Because Erwin needs a few drinks after work and you've been cooped up inside for days. You need to get out more, y'know. You're gonna end up dying alone at this rate." He rolled his eyes, not even bothering to attempt a rebuttal. Hanji was impossible, but that was probably why the three of them stuck together. Rivaille would end up withdrawing from most of the world if it weren't for her dragging him out all the time.

But it wasn't a bad thing, really.

. . .

The bar was loud. A football game played on the several televisions mounted on the walls and trashy music blended in with the dull buzz of people talking and glasses clinking. It was also filthy. Well, by bar standards, one of the cleanest around, but a far cry from the pristine cleanliness that Rivaille could've been sitting in. Admittedly, the alternative to this (staring that the same page of a book for hours in the silence of his flat) wasn't preferable, but this wasn't all that great either. Maybe another drink would make this place seem nicer.

"Rivaille, you're going to get drunk."

"No, I'm not," he retorted, batting Erwin's hand away. "I'm not driving, so it's fine." He didn't feel very intoxicated; a little wobbly, his vision a little unfocused around the edges, maybe.

Hanji chuckled, red-faced. If anyone was drunk, it was her. "Aw, let him be, Erwin."

"You've had plenty to drink yourself. Wasn't I the one who said I needed a beer?"

"We haven't gone out in ages, lighten up. Geez." Erwin only sighed, resigned. Hanji resumed telling whatever story about something (apparently hilarious to the point that she did more laughing than talking) that happened in the lab sometime last week.

Despite knowing the consequences, he ordered another pint. "Last one," he promised when Erwin shot a look at him.

He didn't get five minutes of quiet. "'Oi, Rivaille, lookit that girl. She's pretty. She your type?" Hanji elbowed him and pointed towards a slim girl with short brown hair and dark makeup. She said something to her friends accompanied by greatly exaggerated gestures, then threw her head back and laughed. Rivaille wasn't sure if she was joking or not.

"Bars aren't the kind of place I want to look for potential dates at."

"Don't be so cold. You need someone lively like that in your life." Hanji chewed on her lip, scanning the bar for more poor individuals that might appeal to his tastes. "What about her?" As pretty as the busty redhead admittedly was…

"No."

"Well...what about the guys?"

He didn't bother looking around. "Still no."

Hanji sighed, exasperated. "There has to be at least one person in here who fits your tastes."

"There's not, I promise," he insisted. He'd let Hanji play her games, but this was getting annoying. He could pretend to be attracted to someone just to shut her up, but then she'd probably insist on him making a move or whatever, and he wasn't going to deal with that.

"Rivaille, you're gonna die alone if you don't find someone soon."

He lingered over his drink for a moment. "What if I already have someone?" Regret for his loose tongue washed over him immediately. He shouldn't have said that. Whatever voice in his head that was still sober berated him for drinking more than he'd planned to. Hanji was just teasing him, anyway. Why'd he even bother saying something?

Hanji's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and she jerked her drink towards him, nearly spilling. "Do ya?" Rivaille glanced at her, holding her gaze for a moment before returning his attention to the glass in his hand.

"...Not really."

She pouted. "That's not a real answer. Tell me, has the old grouchy bear found a mate?" Erwin snorted a laugh and Rivaille glared daggers at her.

"That's the stupidest thing you've said all night."

That earned him an elbow to the ribs. "You do. You do. You've so found someone you like. Who's it? 'S gotta be someone we know."

Rivialle scowled. No, this was stupid. How'd they even get in this conversation? He didn't have anyone like that anyway…Or, more of, he didn't have someone he actually had a chance with, because he was selfish and stupid. He hadn't intended for things to end up like this...but that wasn't the point. When you loved someone, weren't you supposed to be there for them? Weren't you supposed to understand them, weren't you supposed to keep them happy? Because he'd fucking screwed up with that. He couldn't properly help Eren, he couldn't even fall for the right person.

He'd really fallen for Eren?

It was undeniable when the words were bubbling up and itching to be said.

Rivaille set his drink down, brow furrowing. "Ah, shit...I really like him." His voice was barely louder than a breath, lost in the noise of the bar, but he felt like there was an alarm going off in his head.

"Huh? What was that?" Hanji asked, slouching over the counter. When he didn't answer, she whined. "Seriously, who do you like?" He ignored her, sighing and bringing his drink back to his lips and downing what was left of it in one swallow, Erwin yanking it away from him a few moments too late.

"I think we're going now," he said. "I've paid, come on." He stood up and grabbing his coat from the back of his chair. Rivaille stood and grabbed the counter when Hanji stumbled into him. Erwin grabbed both of them by the shoulder and led them out of the building, keeping them from tripping over themselves- although Hanji was in more danger than Rivaille.

"Sooo, Erwin, do we owe ya or do ya love us?" Hanji drawled as they piled in the car.

"You owe me."

"You're a cruel man, Erwin," she groaned. "Right, Rivaille?" He didn't answer. He'd slumped against the window, wishing he was home already so he could try to sleep off the ache in his chest. He felt like the weight he'd been carrying around since he found Eren in the bathroom had doubled in size in one night. This...was stupid. He was drunk. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Now wasn't the time to think about this kind of thing.

They stopped at Hanji's first, and Erwin had to get out to walk her to the door so she didn't trip and fall on her face while practically yelling her goodbyes, where Petra let her in. Rivaille watched them talk for a moment, before Erwin bade them goodnight and returned. He didn't say anything for a few minutes, focusing on driving, but eventually, he glanced back at Rivaille, who was still staring at the floor and frowning.

"Are you alright?"

"Dunno."

Erwin didn't comment about the unhelpfulness of his reply, seeming to decide it was better not to pry. Rivaille let his head fall back against the seat, biting at his lip. He wanted water. They sat in silence until it was broken again, this time by Rivaille.

"Hey, Erwin."

"Yes?"

"What are you supposed to do when the person you love wants to die?"

There was a long silence. Then, "I don't know. That's..."

"...Pretty shitty. Yeah." More silence. The car stopped and Erwin got out, coming around to open the door for him. Rivaille clambered out and started walking, finding himself able to walk in a straighter line than he'd expected. He still accepted Erwin's help, not wanting to trip over a crack in the walk.

"I can handle myself inside," he promised when Erwin opened the door and let him in.

"Okay. Hey, Rivaille." Erwin waited until Rivaille looked up and met his gaze. "Get some sleep. Think about things in the morning."

Rivaille nodded once and gave him a small wave, letting the door close behind him. He slipped his shoes off and hung his jacket before stumbling down the hall to his bedroom, pulling his shirt off and kicking his pants off. He left them on the floor, too out of it to put them in the hamper. He flopped on top of the blankets and groaned, rolling onto his back at staring up at the dark ceiling, waiting for sleep to take him. He wasn't sure how long he lay there for, but eventually his eyes grew heavy and closed, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

. . .

Rivaille was first aware of the dull pounding in his head, then the light behind his eyes, and then the dryness in his mouth when he stirred. He groaned and rolled over, eyes opening and quickly shutting against the sunlight. He wished he'd drunk some water or at least had the insight to put a glass by his bed last night, because he didn't really want to get up. He wasn't severely hungover, as his memories were painfully clear (he refused to address them until he'd had a shower and some aspirin) and he didn't feel sick, but he'd definitely drunk too much. He forced himself to get up, picking his dirty clothes up and dropping them in the hamper. He pulled his boxers off and dropped them in too, before heading into the bathroom and stepping into the shower before letting the water heat up.

The shock of cold definitely woke him up.

When he felt clean enough (he'd have to strip the sheets off his bed and wash them because he'd probably been filthy from the bar when he went to sleep last night-yuck) he got out and rubbed a towel viciously through his hair, leaving it messier than it was before. He could comb it after he'd taken something to stop the dull pounding in his head. He wrapped the towel around his hips and went in search of medicine.

He downed the pills with an entire glass of water, and then another, before returning to his bedroom to find clothes. When he was dressed and his hair was tamed he returned to the kitchen, finding himself rather not hungry, so he made himself a cup of coffee and sat at the table, only now allowing himself to consider the consequences of his actions.

The problem was that his realization had not just been influenced by the alcohol; no, he actually had feelings for Eren, and fuck he couldn't even try to deny it anymore. That was a problem all on it's own, but then he'd gone and admitted it to Erwin, although indirectly. Still.

His irrational side asked him what the big deal about liking Eren was.

Eren was ten years younger. Eren was still in college and didn't have time for a relationship. Eren had some serious mental problems and did not need Rivaille's interference, because he'd just cause more trouble anyway. If Rivaille loved him, he should've been able to notice something was wrong and do something about him. He'd only cause trouble for Eren, right? He spent most of his time with him. He should've noticed, he should've been able to help him…

He knew what Eren would say to him blaming himself. Eren was wrong. Everything was wrong.

His phone went off.  _You okay?_  Erwin asked.

_Yeah. Is Hanji dead?_

_According to Petra, yes._

Rivailel huffed, downing half his coffee in two swallows.  _Not surprised._  There were a few minutes of silence before Erwin texted him again. He hadn't realized he'd been waiting for it.

 _Are you really okay?_  He wasn't talking about headaches and upset stomachs anymore. This time, Rivialle didn't really have an answer. Yes, he was fine, but no, he wasn't because everything was screwed up. He didn't know himself, so it was easier to just...

_I'm fine._

_Okay._  Erwin didn't text him anymore after, and he wasn't sure if he wished he would or not. He wasn't sure of anything aside from the fact that he was a total dick. But he already knew that.

He was probably imagining the ache in his chest.

Eren's POV

He wasn't so numb anymore.

Was that progress? It was start to feel more and more like a setback than anything, the longer this went on. Eren didn't know if he wanted to die anymore, but he was still supposed to be, and the rest of his emotions were all the more confusing. He was caught between caring about nothing and worrying about everything, and when the numbness and the sort of emotional emptiness that came with being prepared to die began fading away, confusion and anger took hold. He was mad at himself, but he ended up lashing out at others without meaning to as the weeks went on.

He didn't eat. When he didn't eat, Mikasa forced him to. When she forced him to, he argued. When they argued, he got mad, and even if she tried to be patient he ended up yelling at her. When he didn't want to take his meds, because he could hardly make sense of his head without them and they only temporarily wrapped his emotions in cotton, they argued. He couldn't get along with Mikasa, with Armin, with anyone, for more than an hour. He didn't really want to.

He knew he was being a prick, more of an ass than Jean at times (and that was something). But that just made things worse because he didn't  _want_  to be picking fights with everyone. He was mad at himself, but for some reason he lashed out on others instead, and he didn't know why.

Goddammit, after what Mikasa and Armin had done for him. After his friends decided to stick around even if he was a jerk. After wasting time and money on reviving his sorry ass, this was how he thanked them.

He wanted to see Rivaille. They hadn't had a lot of time to see each other since he started therapy, and Eren missed him. But he was afraid to text him too much, to ask to see him, because he'd already fucked so much shit up and he knew if he went they'd end up fighting within forty minutes and he desperately didn't want that to happen.

Eren flopped back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He'd gotten in a fight with Mikasa. Again. Right after getting back from another appointment with Mina, who was the only person that didn't aggravate him. She seemed to have endless patience and she never tried to pry things out of him. He never said much more than the (extremely) abridged version of what he was feeling or thinking or whatever. But today…

God, he didn't even know anymore. He didn't want to think. He hated this, hated himself for being so horrible. Anger and confusion was feeling, but at least when he was mostly numb he hadn't been hurting others with only himself to blame. Besides, there were other ways to feel...and maybe other ways to take his anger out, on himself so he wasn't making things even worse.

He shouldn't.

_You mess everything up. You've been horrible lately. If anything, you deserve more scars._

Eren clenched his teeth and sat up. Maybe he'd forget all of the shit going on inside of his head, and maybe that kind of pain, seeing his blood against his skin would make things clearer. He already had too many, so what difference would a few make?  _Once you start, you won't stop._  For the first time in what felt like forever, the realization that he didn't care scared him.

But it wasn't scary enough.

He went over to his dresser and opened the top drawer, digging through mismatched socks for his blades. It took him about thirty seconds to notice something was wrong.

They weren't...They weren't there.

He searched the rest of the drawers, the floor, under the bed, his other hiding places. Nothing. He frantically ran through all his memories of the past month. Mikasa couldn't have found them, she never went through his stuff. Maybe when she brought him clothes at the hospital? No, they were definitely hidden. She would've had to dig for them. Who else had been in his room? Armin once, but he hadn't touched the drawer…

 _Oh_. Oh  _fuck_. Eren went back to his bed, dread pooling in his gut, and picked up his phone. He scrolled back through his messages, not having to go very far to find what he was looking for, what he was really hoping not to find even though he knew it was there.

_You should thank me; I cleaned your room._

It made sense. He'd still been in the hospital. Rivaille was borderline OCD with his cleaning. He went through everything, organized everything, cleaned anything he could reach, dusted every flat surface in sight...and he would've gone through his sock drawer without a second thought. And he, unlike Mikasa, would dig around, even if he didn't intend to snoop around.

Rivialle had found them. Which meant that he'd shown them to Mikasa, probably given them to her. Shit. Why hadn't they said anything? No, it made sense. No, now was not the time to think about that. This was bad. Bad bad bad. Eren wanted to cry, to tear his hair out, something. He wanted his blades back. He didn't want them to know, couldn't have them know. He'd unknowingly caused even more trouble now, for himself and for whoever knew. Shit, he'd fucked up, was a fuckup. Everything was so, so, so messed up already; why this too?

Eren dropped his phone and swung his legs over the edge of the bed so he could rest his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He fucked up, everything was fucked up, he was fucked up. He'd managed to make things worse yet again, without even opening his mouth this time. And Mikasa hadn't said a thing to him yet, not that he blamed her. She probably didn't know what to do because...because he was a fuckup. He should've been dead. It was like running into a wall that he'd seen approaching from miles back but had failed to slow down in time for. He. Should've. Been.  _Dead_.

_You've said that too many times to count, so why aren't you? You can't do anything right anyway, look what's happened now? It's always been like this, clearly you weren't supposed to stick around for so long. They'll miss you until they see how much easier it is without you._

He wanted to cut his brain out. But his blades were gone.

_Don't let that stop you._

No, yes, there were other ways to bleed, to feel pain.

_You deserve to feel pain anyway. Why take your anger out on other people when you're the problem?_

His mind was sick, but wasn't the rest of him just as twisted? His own thoughts were killing him, but his thoughts and his demons were one and the same, because he was his own monster. Everything...everything suddenly felt very dark again. Everything was his fault. No matter which way he turned, he was faced with more of his own mess. Right now, meds and therapy didn't mean shit. He was angry and confused and he couldn't breathe properly and the world felt like it was closing around him, trapping him with no way out of the ruins he was responsible for.

He didn't really realize that his teeth were digging into his skin until he was tasting blood, and he didn't really care that he was leaving marks all down the side of his arm. He bit into his arm again and again, sometimes breaking the skin and always leaving what would soon be bruise after bruise. This was different from cutting, it wasn't as easy to control and less methodical. But it gave him the kind of pain that burned, sent shivers up his arm and neck and ached. And he bled. There was a chaotic line of overlapping bite marks on his left forearm when he finally stopped, staring at the results of what he'd done and letting it sink in. There...there was no easy way to hide this. His arm hurt. He felt sick and he still felt trapped. His breathing picked up, shallow and quick as he stared at his shaking hands. Trying to catch his breath only resulted in him making a sound like a sob and breathing faster.

There was a knock on his door. "Eren? Are you okay?"

 _Fuck_. No, he was not okay. But Mikasa didn't need to know just how not okay he was today. He needed to get his voice to work before she opened the door, he needed to tell her he was trying to sleep so she'd leave him alone for a while...too late. Mikasa stuck her head in the door, eyes flicking around his room, to his dresser with all it's drawers pulled open and his clothes strewn around after his desperate search for his blades, and then to him. If his shallow breathing wasn't all he could hear at the moment he might've heard the gasp he saw her make.

She stepped in, leaving the door open, and slowly knelt in front of him, eyes not leaving his. "Eren." Her voice was calm, gentle but firm. "Eren, it's okay. Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Yeah, like that. Good, good. Just keep breathing like that, with me." She fell silent for a moment, nodding her head with each breath he took. "You're still hyperventilating, Eren. Try breathing a little deeper, like this-" she took a breath, taking his shaking right hand in both of hers. "See, good. You're okay, everything's going to be okay." Eren focused on her words, trying to blot out everything else because he knew he would freak out if he didn't.

Mikasa squeezed his hand. "Eren, will you tell me what happened?"

He didn't know if he could. "I...I…I was...my blades were gone, and..." Mikasa nodded, sighing softly.

"I know, I'm sorry. Rivaille found them, and I told him to take them out of the house. I should've said something, I just didn't know what to say. I didn't want to bring it up until I had to...but I should've, and I'm sorry. This is-"

"Don't," Eren gasped, "blame yourself. Fuck...just don't. Please. It's not your fault. It's me, all me. I-I...all my fault, everything is. So don't." He hated the sad look she gave him. "This is not your fault, it's always been me. Always. I'm the fuckup. Not you."

"You're not a fuckup." Her voice shook slightly and her entire body stiffened. "Eren. Listen to me, because I don't want to repeat myself a hundred times, even though I will say this over and over again until you  _have_  to believe me, even if I get no sleep: you are the most important person in my 're my last remaining family, my best friend, my brother. You are worth more than any amount of money ever. You are worth more than all the possessions and property I own. I don't want to hear about how I'm going to regret putting you before my future, college, whatever, because I care more about you than any of that. I want to help you, and I know everything is fucking messed up right now and I know it all seems hopeless but I promise it's not, and I'm not leaving your side. And I'm not the only one who cares about you, Eren. Armin's like another brother to me and to you, I know that and so do you. Eren, we want to help you."

Eren tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. She was wrong. If he was gone, she'd understand just how much trouble he caused. If he was gone, everything would be easier. "But I've just caused even more trouble now. That just proves it, right-"

She cut him off. "You're wrong. Eren, you can't just get better overnight. There's going to be setbacks and bad days. But I'll help you get through them, okay? It's going to get better someday. So now," she took his other hand gently, "let me clean you up."

Eren nodded slowly and let her lead him to the bathroom, his eyes trained on the floor. He couldn't bring himself to look up at her when she gently directed him to sit on the closed toilet, nor when she rummaged around in the cabinet for a moment, not even when she kneeled in front of him to treat his arm. He winced when she began cleaning the wounds, but he swallowed his discomfort down because he'd brought this on himself. He deserved it, so he didn't have a right to complain anyway. He focused on keeping his breathing steady and not letting his thoughts spiral out of control again.

He couldn't keep them in order, but at least he could entertain one solid thought at a time again.

"Eren," Mikasa murmured when she was done bandaging his arm. He glanced at her. "I will patch you up as many times as it takes...but Eren, please, I don't want you to take things out on yourself. Even if you don't want to talk to me...I will do anything I can to help you, okay? So don't be afraid to come to me, because I don't want to keep putting a bandage over a cut, I want the cut to heal. Okay?"

Eren looked down again. "Y-yeah," he said quietly, even though he knew he couldn't climb onto her back and let her support him just because he couldn't shoulder his own problems. He'd have to deal with himself when it came down to it. Other people didn't deserve to suffer for him.

She held both his hands in hers. "You can always call Mina, or talk to me, or Armin, okay? We'll listen. We don't want you to think you're alone. Okay?"

"Okay."

But he was alone, and the voice in the back of his mind reminded him of it every time there was a break in his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like Eren would resort to biting. Taken slightly from canon, I suppose. He did surprise me in this chapter, though, as I hadn't originally planned it. Actually the breakdown in this chapter was going to be in the next but...as I said, he surprised me and I liked the results. 
> 
> So, it's Eren's own fault and I am not responsible for putting him through so much emotional turmoil.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not even going to try to apologize for my lack of activity. Sorry for the slight mikasa/annie if you don’t like that ship...I think they would make a good couple if the circumstances in canon were different. Plus I like couples that are always going at each other (cough jeaneren cough) so yeah…
> 
> Levi is in forensics, by the way (Hanji works at the same place, different division).
> 
> Hope you all had happy holidays!
> 
> (Okie guys. Prepare yourselves for fluff and angsty OOC shit. This chapter is rushed and I'm sorry.)

_Eren’s POV_

It was one of _those_ days.

One of the days where Eren was pretty sure his feet would dissolve should they hit the floor. He had a complete lack of energy and absolutely no incentive to get out of bed. He didn’t have class today, thankfully, but maybe he wished he did, because then he’d have at least one logical reason to get up. Then again, he probably wouldn’t get up for it anyway.

His light was too far away to turn on. His limbs felt like lead and he just wanted to fall back asleep. That wouldn’t happen, he knew, but he was strangely okay with just lying in bed all day, sleeping or not.

Mikasa had gone out with Annie (who Eren suspected she was dating), leaving a plate of toast, some orange juice and his meds on his nightstand by his phone. She told him to eat, and maybe take a shower if he felt like it, but the bathroom was feeling pretty far away. He wasn’t hungry either. He could at least take the antidepressants (and he knew they would help), but...

But it was easier to just lie there, staring at the ceiling and listening to his own breathing.

He wasn’t sure how long it’d been since Mikasa left when his phone buzzed loudly, rattling the plate. He turned his head, staring at it and trying to decide whether it was worth answering or not. I was probably Mikasa checking in on him, or one of his classmates asking for notes _he_ certainly hadn’t taken.

Or, it could be Levi...

_As if. Don’t get your hopes up._ When he did nothing all day and neglected his meds, the damned voices came back. He was probably really going crazy if he had to take pills to get it to shut up. _Losing your mind, yeah. For sure if you think someone like Levi would bother contacting you._

His phone went off again, and he groaned, lifting his head to check who it was.  _Some part of you really still hopes? Idiot._ But he did hope it was Levi, because Levi was everything to him (even if Eren was nothing in comparison), and when someone means to much to you, you're going to fucking hope every text is from them.

He reached for his phone, swallowing as he lifted it, hoping, hoping…

_Are you busy?_

Eren breathed out, not realizing he’d been holding his breath. _Over a text? Wow._ He answered quickly.

_Not really._ He almost didn’t want to tell Levi what he was doing. He’d only be disappointed with him, of course. _I haven’t gotten up though._

_Are you planning to?_

_No._ He could hear Levi’s sigh, picture the disapproving expression he was wearing.

_Well, I’m completely free today, for once. If you get up, we could go do something._

Eren’s heart did a few complicated dance moves before sinking to his stomach. He wanted to go out with him. He wanted to see him. It’d been over a week because of Levi’s work and Eren’s classes but...even that wasn’t enough. He knew if he did get up and go out, he’d end up annoying Levi, or saying something stupid, or ruining the entire day for him with his lack of enthusiasm. He had to turn him down. _Sorry...I’m not feeling good so…_

His phone was silent for long enough that Eren figured that Levi had just given up on him, not that he blamed him. But then it went off again. _I’ll come over, then?_

_If you want to. I’m not very good company today though._ Levi wouldn’t want to stay for long, but the fact that he was insistent enough to come over made his heart speed up again.

_I don’t care. But you’ll need to get up to let me in._ Eren groaned, but agreed. He really, really wanted to see Levi.

He knew, of course, that he’d never actually get what he wanted most: Levi’s heart. But that was okay, because at this point, his friendship was enough, wasn’t it? He had to take what he could get. Honestly, he didn’t really know why Levi put up with him. He didn’t have anything special about him, unless his long list of psychological problems counted, and he sure as hell wasn’t likeable or easy to get along with. He could ask the same of anyone, really.

He didn’t like putting up with himself.

But Mina had told him over and over again to quit thinking like that. She’d forced him to come up with a list of all the good things about him, including what people had said about him. This list had come up awfully short, but he could sure come up with a long list of flaws. Mina had insisted that they focus on the good things before the bad, but it was difficult. Mina was adamant about his being a good person, someone who was actually full of energy and determination and spark, only it was all smothered by his depression.

Only Eren didn’t really remember a time when he’d been full of "spark" or determination. It kind of felt like his whole life before his attempted suicide had been blurred out and now he was a robot running on antidepressants and words forced into his head.

_It’s because you are. You’re not really worth anything, there’s nothing redeeming about you. Good qualities? Maybe if you weren’t so fucked up. Your head’s too twisted to fix. You-_

He’d never been so thankful to hear the doorbell ring. Being alone with his own thoughts was bad for him (which just further proved how screwed up he was), but now Levi was here. Here to sit with him and get bored of him and find him annoying because he was dead on his feet today…

Except he hadn’t even gotten to his feet yet and he really needed to do that if he was going to to let Levi in.

His phone went off again. _Get up and let me in, come on brat. You can do it._ Levi deserved credit for knowing when to give encouragement. Ered was pretty fucking weak for needing that, but he did. He couldn’t get up on his own today.

Now he forced his feet off the bed, almost surprised when the floor didn’t disappear underneath him when he finally stood. He glanced at the mirror as he shuffled out of his room, and stopped. Bad idea.

He didn’t usually care how he looked, but he was pretty sure he’d hit a low. His hair was a mess, his oversized shirt dirty and wrinkled and the dark circles under his eyes seemed more prominent than usual. So did his bones. Maybe he really was a walking corpse- a zombie or something. He tore his eyes away from the mirror, because he sort of failed to care about being a zombie, and went to let Levi in.

Levi wasn’t even in the house before he spoke. “You need a shower.”

Eren blinked at him, his brain working sluggishly after lying around doing nothing all day. “Um. Hi.”

Levi shook his head and walked in, shutting the door behind him. “You need to take care of yourself, christ. Come on.” He steered Eren down the hall towards the bathroom. “You’ve gotten up, good job, now get clean. I’ll get you clothes.”

Eren turned the water on. “Uh...Okay? I’m not going anywhere, why do I need to-?”

“Because I’m here, and I’m not going to be like your sister and let you lie around even if we aren’t doing anything. Sorry, I’m not that nice. Now get in the shower while I go disinfect your room. It’s probably fucking filthy in there.”

Eren’s lips twitched upwards at that. Levi was working way too quickly for his groggy head to keep up with, but maybe a shower would do him good. He was here, after all. “Yeah, yeah, sorry.” Levi rolled his eyes and left, shutting the door behind him. Eren stripped, leaving his clothes on the floor (knowing Levi would scoff at them) and stepping into the water. It had yet to heat up, and the shock of cold certainly cleared his head. He yelped and shied away from the water, running his hand under it until it heated up.

Then it hit him that Levi was in his house, probably still in his room and looking through his clothes, while he was in the shower and...fuck. He looked like crap, was crap, his room was a mess...oops. He could feel his face heating up. He was alone with Levi. Thank god they had dark shower curtains. If Levi could see him, that’d be embarrassing (why would he look anyway, though? Eren’s body was gross. Even he didn’t like looking at it, after everything he’d done to it. Disgusting. Pathetic). But if Levi actually saw him he’d probably just wither up and die or melt from blushing so hard, while Levi would think nothing of it.

It was already sad enough that Levi had to force him to take care of himself, but now he was getting flustered over nothing. It was nothing, because did Levi even begin to think about Eren the way he thought about him? The likelihood was so low it was laughable.

The whole ordeal was pretty disheartening. Eren had been crushing for years, even without fully realizing it, and now he was neck deep in stupid feelings that only added to his issues. He was one big circle of fuck ups, one after another.

He heard the door open over the sound of the water and stared at his feet, red as a tomato, because Levi was right on the other side of the curtain and even if he couldn’t see him, he was right there.

Eren rubbed shampoo into his hair furiously, trying to scrub his thoughts away. _Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid…_

He got out quickly, finding his pajamas replaced by folded jeans and one of his band t-shirts. He rubbed a towel vigorously in his hair before leaving to hunt down his brush, wherever it was hiding in his room. Levi was already there, cleaning up his uneaten toast.

“You should take your meds. You’ll feel better,” he said, as if Eren didn’t already know that.

“I’m just a walking pill bottle now,” Eren grumbled. Levi looked up, about to say something, only to laugh instead. Eren frowned at him. “What?”

“Brush your hair, it’s sticking up everywhere.” He handed him his brush, and Eren hastily ran it through his hair, trying to flatten it in the back. He set his brush down and reluctantly downed the pills Levi was holding out to him expectantly. He picked up the plate, eyeing his untouched breakfast. “You haven’t eaten anything. What do you want?”

He shrugged. “I’m not really hungry. I guess I’ll drink this, though.” He picked up the glass of untouched orange juice and took a few big swallows. Levi sighed.

“Well, I’ll make you whatever, if you want anything. I’ll be right back. Also, brush your teeth.”

“Whatever, mom.” Eren turned away to hide the smile that was fighting to turn his lips up, because Levi was being stupidly nice. To him. Levi was some sort of sailor-mouthed angel, probably.

Maybe that was stretching it, because Levi was a huge asshole to everyone on the planet and walked around giving children and young couples sour glares, but he really was a good person on the inside. Eren knew how loyal he was to his friends, the few that he had, and he actually had a lot of soft spots despite his cold demeanor.

But if Eren voiced this he’d probably earn a smack upside the head.

Eren finished his juice, brushed his teeth for about thirty seconds and ventured into the kitchen to put his glass in the sink. He was unsurprised to find Levi eyeing the place disapprovingly.

“Sorry it’s not up to your neatfreak standards. Mikasa’s been busy and I’ve been lazier than usual.”

“I can tell,” he replied cooly. “Whatever, if you people want to live like fucking pigs that’s not my business.” He was obviously itching to clean the entire flat, but something held him back. Eren was almost impressed. Levi turned to him. “So, you don’t want to do anything today? It’s not often I have the whole day free.”

Eren shuffled his feet guiltily. Honestly, he was tempted to lie down again and stare at the wall some more, even though Levi was here. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I don’t have the energy today.”

Levi took a seat on the couch. “Don’t be sorry. You can make it up to me next time. It’s nice that you’re just up and talking to me anyway.” He patted the couch. “We can watch TV or something.”

Eren stared at him for a moment, feeling like his insides had just dissolved into carbonated water. The weird bubbly sensation was almost overwhelming, rising and bringing heat to his face and making his heart speed up.

“Earth to Eren, are you sitting down or not?” Eren jumped and nodded, hurriedly joining him. He was painfully aware of the mere two feet of space between them. God, he was being weird today. 

Levi picked up the remote and began flipping through channels. “Anything you want to watch?”

“I dunno...we could look for a movie on Netflix or something.”

They looked through movies until deciding on old horror movie that probably originated from the depths of bad effects hell, one that neither of them would probably pay much attention to. Eren resisted the urge to keep glancing at Levi, figuring he was acting weird and stupid enough already.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his forehead. He jumped, causing Levi to flinch back. “What was that for? You surprised me," Eren spluttered.

“I can see that, dumbass. You look feverish, so I was feeling for a temperature.” Levi replaced his hand and Eren’s heartbeat picked up again. That was happening enough that it was probably getting unhealthy. “But you seem fine.”

Eren nodded, pulling his knees up to his chest. “Yeah. I’m just a little...out of it today.”

“I know. It’s alright.” They were quiet after that, and Eren was kind of glad for the movie as a distraction. He could already predict the order of character deaths and how it was going to end, but it wasn’t the worst movie he'd ever watched. And it kept him from staring at Levi. They didn’t talk much, but his company was nice. Eren sort of wanted to move closer to him, but he knew that was a bad, bad idea. 

Maybe keeping his feelings pent up for so long was starting to overwhelm him. They seemed to get stronger every time he looked at the older man. The very, very attractive older man- crap, he was staring again. 

After about twenty minutes of silence and forced concentration on the movie, Eren looked over at Levi to find him asleep. Eren wasn’t surprised. His work kept him up late nights with often unpredictable hours, and he was usually working and otherwise busy when he had the scarce day off. It was rare he actually had time to do nothing, and he’d chosen to use that time to hang out with Eren today.

Eren shifted so he was facing Levi, cheek resting on the top of the couch. Levi looked rather harmless when asleep, his long lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks, his mouth at rest. His lips looked so much softer when they weren’t in their usual scowl. His hair had fallen over his face, and his chest rose and fell softly with each breath. Levi was a very quiet, very light sleeper.

Eren knew he woke at the drop of a pin, but he willingly risked brushing his hair back. “Hey,” he whispered. “You awake?” Levi didn’t answer, so he poked his forehead gently. He’d probably get pissed if he woke up, but Eren wanted to know if he was really asleep. “Levi?”

He didn’t respond, didn’t even twitch, so Eren scootched a little closer, still watching him. He could feel himself about to do or say something stupid, but if Levi was asleep it didn’t matter, right? It wasn’t like he’d ever get to say anything to him otherwise.

Eren reached forward, tapping Levi’s fingers lightly. He remained motionless, so Eren threaded their fingers together. It felt nice, and he realized that he’d wanted to do that for a very long time. He wanted to laugh at himself. “Isn’t this sad? I can only do this when you’re sleeping,” he murmured. “Why do you bother to put up with me? I’m lucky…”

Eren played with his fingers for a moment, looking down at them. He smiled a little sadly and brought Levi’s hand to his lips, whispering into his palm. “But, y’know...the luckiest person in the world will be the one to win your heart. What I wouldn’t give to be that person, I don’t know.”

Suddenly, Levi’s hand moved under his, sliding along his jaw to cup his cheek. Shit. He'd known that was a bad idea. Levi'ss eyes cracked open, curious gaze connecting with Eren’s shocked one. “Eren…”

His stomach seemed to have dropped through the floor and fallen into the depths of hell where satan was twisting it into knots, laughing cruelly at his idiocy. Eren had just dropped the biggest ball and rolled it around over everything that kept Levi from probably hating him. He leaned away from Levi, eyes darting everywhere but his face. He could feel his face heating up and clenched his hands in his lap. Maybe he could fix this. Maybe he could just brush it off. Hopefully Levi hadn’t actually heard him. “Sorry. I, uh-”

Levi propped his chin in his hand. “What did you mean by that?”

Well, fuck that. Eren glared at his lap, unable to look up. “Do you have to ask?” There was a long silence, too long. Eren began to feel panic rising up in him. Couldn’t Levi say something? They couldn’t just sit in silence like this. He’d go crazy. “Look,” he blurted, searching desperately for words. “It wasn’t anything! I mean, I like you a lot. But- I mean. Shit.” _I fucked up. Of course I did. Why. Why did I do that?_ Angry tears prickled in his eyes, threatening to spill over. He blinked, trying to force them away because if he cried, he’d only make things worse. “You can leave. I’m sorry.”

Levi stared at him like he was speaking another language. “What? Why would I leave?" Eren didn't say anything. "Were you ever planning to tell me?”

“No.”

“Why?”

Eren’s head shot up and he glared at him incredulously. “You need an answer? Because there’s no fucking way you would ever feel the same way about someone like me.”

Now Levi looked mad. He scowled and lurched forward, putting a hand under Eren’s chin and forcing him to keep his head up. “Someone like you? You’re a complete idiot. So am I. We’re both idiots. I wasn’t going to tell you either because I didn’t want to add to your problems. You’ve got enough going on, but this, you thinking you’re not good enough for me? Bullshit. Complete bullshit.”

The tears were back. His throat constricted and he swallowed, trying to clear it so he could speak without his voice breaking. “I’m not. You don’t understand. All I know how to do is fuck things up. I’m a walking, talking mistake. My head’s not right, I’m not right. You’re so, so much better than I am.”

Levi squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Wrong. Eren. Listen to me. You’re a lot of things. A lot of things are fucked up in your life right now. But you’re not the problem and you never were. You’re not made of your problems. You’re made of the fucking stars and summer wind and nuclear energy and a bunch of other stupid sappy crap that just _is_ you.”

Eren shook his head. His vision was blurring dangerously. _Don’t cry, don’t cry._ “I’m scared of fucking imaginary voices that live in my own head. They were talking all day until you got here. I’m fucking crazy.”

“You aren’t crazy. You’re going through utter shit, but you aren’t crazy. Look. I hate words. Words are stupid and complicated and neither of us are very good with them.” He pressed his forehead to Eren’s and continued, voice rising as he went on. “But I fucking hate seeing you like this and I’m willing to sit here and talk to you until you believe me, even if it has us up all this night and the next. The Eren I know, the Eren I have really strong fucking feelings for, is the Eren who makes crappy jokes and laughs at my even crappier ones. The Eren who fights with everyone but is fiercely protective of his friends, even that Jean kid he ‘hates’ so much. The Eren who goes headfirst down the disgusting slide of life, who speaks his mind even when his opinions are absolutely ridiculous. Who sings Britney Spears in the shower at obnoxious volumes because he knows he makes those songs sound good. Who skips class and turns in every one of his projects in late with only ‘art shouldn’t have a deadline’ as his excuse.”

He paused and took a deep breath, now speaking more calmly. “Do you know how scared I was when I found you in the bathroom? I thought you were already dead and I thought I’d lost the most important person in my life. That’s what Mikasa and Armin were thinking, too. You might not realize it, but you’re like a fire that lights up a lot of people’s lives.”

Eren closed his eyes but was unable to stop the tears from escaping. We wrapped his arms around Levi and buried his face against his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “I’m sorry. Thank you.” He felt Levi’s hand in his hair.

“Don’t be sorry. You’re going to get better. And I should be thanking you, because if you didn’t open your idiot mouth while I was asleep we’d still be keeping the same stupid ass secret from each other.”

“I’m really stupid. I thought you’d hate me. I thought you’d think I was even more disgusting.”

“Disgusting?” Levi sounded surprised. “The only thing disgusting about you is your lack of hygiene.” Eren stayed silent, because that wasn’t all that was gross about him. The shock was wearing off and he was starting to realize exactly what was happening. Levi was in his arms, returning his feelings. He hadn’t left him despite all the shit that he carried around and Eren was so incredibly _thankful_  for it he would’ve started crying if he wasn’t already. He sniffed, pulling back to wipe at his eyes. He’d always cried too easily.

Eren was a shit person. Levi had to know that; anyone could see how unstable he was. But somehow, Levi saw past that, and Eren realied that maybe that was exactly what he needed.  

Levi brushed the side of his hand across Eren’s cheek. Eren leaned into his palm, looking at him. His steely eyes were unreadable as usual, but now it was because Eren couldn’t decipher what emotions were in them. He couldn’t even put his own feelings into words. Maybe he didn’t need to.

Like Levi had told him, words were delicate and complicated. They could be twisted into lies. But actions were far easier to read, and harder to fake. Actions could convey a lot more than words could, too.

So when Eren kissed him, he was trying to put all his stupid, tangled-up thoughts into it.

Levi seemed to get the message.

 

_Levi’s POV_

Eren fell asleep with his head on Levi’s chest, snoring softly, movie long since finished and forgotten about. Levi wasn’t surprised; he knew that he didn’t get much sleep, even when he did lie around all day.

So now Levi had plenty of time to feel like the biggest fucking asshole on the planet, pretty much.  

Eren. Beautiful, amazing, reckless and stupid Eren. Stupid stupid Eren. Not good enough for Levi? Most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

It shook him. Eren was hiding things again. It was clear his head was far darker than he was letting on, and Levi hated it because, once again, he should’ve know. The kid was probably still suicidal (or close to that), clearly had immense self esteem issues, and hadn’t seemed to have gotten any better. His therapy and meds weren’t enough and Levi felt like the shittiest person in the whole world because he’d barely even been around as of late.

He wasn’t letting Eren alone again. He was going to drive it into his head that he wasn’t going crazy, that the voices he’d mentioned were feeding him lies, and that he was going to get better.

As shaken and upset with himself as he was, there was a warm feeling in his chest that he hadn’t ever felt before. He’d been scared, if he was honest with himself, that his feelings for Eren were only going to cause trouble. He’d wrestled with the idea of confessing and decided that he was going to have to be content with keeping them hidden until they (hopefully) faded away. He never actually considered the idea that Eren might be doing the same thing. He thanked himself for being a light sleeper and Eren taking risks.

Eren shifted against him, starting to wake up. He yawned and lifted his head, looking around blearily. His hair was mussed up and the cheek that’d been pressed against Levi was red. “What time is it?” he mumbled.

Levi wanted to kiss him again, but reached for his phone instead. “Three. When’s Mikasa getting back?”

Eren rubbed his eyes and propped himself up, resting his arms on Levi’s chest. “She said she’d be out the entire day...probably sometime around seven. When do you have to leave?”

“I can stay for however long. Hanji wants to see me tomorrow, though.”

Eren nodded. “...What do we tell Mikasa, anyway?”

“Whatever. We can tell her nothing, or we can tell her the truth. Up to you, I don’t care. She might not be too happy about it.”

He chewed on the inside of his mouth thoughtfully. “We’ll see what happens, I guess.” He turned his big eyes on Levi again, worrying the corner of his lip between his teeth.

Levi raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Eren leaned closer. “Can I kiss you again?”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “You don’t have to ask.”

Eren flushed, hunching his shoulders. “Well, I figured it was better if I did!”

“Shut up and kiss me, shit for brains.” Levi didn’t ever think an insult could sound so endearing, especially coming from his own mouth. It was a little embarrassing, and that it embarrassed him was even more embarrassing. So he put his hand on the back of Eren’s neck and tugged him closer until their lips met.

Eren kissed him slowly and curiously and, Levi found out when he looked for a brief moment, with his eyes open. Levi had no fucking idea why he did that. “Do you have any idea on how kissing works? It’s better if you close your eyes, stupid,” he muttered against his mouth.

Eren pulled back a little. “Why?”

“Just do it.” Levi reconnected them, wrapping his arms around the other’s shoulders. He was a little surprised when Eren’s tongue brushed against his lower lip, and resisted the urge to smirk. Instead, he forced his tongue past Eren’s lips, taking his time and exploring his mouth. He tasted like toothpaste and orange juice- not the best combination, but at least he’d brushed his teeth.

Eren wasn’t that bad of a kisser, really. He was on the inexperienced side but he’d obviously had some practice. Levi hadn’t been with many people, so maybe he couldn’t claim to be all that great either, but he was pretty sure he knew what he was doing more than Eren did.

Levi slid his hands down Eren’s sides, resting them on Eren’s hips and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. He felt Eren’s hands move to his hair, his fingers scraping pleasantly against his scalp. Levi broke away from his mouth and slowly mouthed along his jaw to his ear, which he nibbled at and tugged on softly with his teeth. Eren made a soft sound that sounded a little too close to a moan, and Levi was starting to wonder exactly where this was going when the damn door opened.

Eren shot up, staring at the door with wide eyes. His face was still flushed, still panting through parted, wet lips. Levi tipped his head back to look, letting his irritation show. Mikasa stared back at them, one eyebrow raised. There was a beat of silence, then Eren looked back down at Levi.

“Well, there goes one problem,” he said, and Levi wanted to laugh because it was just so like him to not be embarrassed.

"I thought you said she wouldn't be back until seven."  

“Christ, get a room.” Mikasa slammed the door behind her and sauntered over to the kitchenette, a bag of groceries in her arms. “Since when were you two together?”

“Since today.” Mikasa glanced from Eren to Levi, giving Levi a glare that spoke volumes about what exactly she’d do to him should he fuck things up. He wasn’t planning to, though. He didn’t ever want to let him go.

Levi sighed, reluctantly sitting up. “I should probably go, then.” Eren gave him a disappointed look but shifted off of his legs so he could get up. Mikasa was still glaring daggers at him, and it was kind of starting to piss him off. So he leaned down, catching Eren’s mouth with his and kissing him deeply for a long moment. He glanced up at Mikasa, giving her an affirmative glare before he straightened up.

She _could_ give him some credit. He wasn’t as heartless as he seemed, and he didn’t plan to break Eren’s heart...and he sure as fucking hell hoped Eren didn’t break his. But he didn’t want to think about that.

All that really mattered was that he could call Eren his. That gave him a certain pleasure that he’d definitely be keeping to himself.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t going to have them confess in this chapter, tbh. I was also going to do it a completely different way and I’m still not sure if I like how this turned out. But I also thought it was cute, and because this fic isn’t supposed to be too long (I was supposed to be finished by now!), I did it this way. Eren’s been a mess so far, but something good seems to have finally happened. 
> 
> This chapter was way too rushed, wasn't it. Ugh. Oh well. Sometimes things happen all at once.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Levi makes a Little Einsteins reference. That is the level I have sunk to. How he knows about that show I don't know but hey.
> 
> But in all seriousness, I think this chapter opens a window that the other parts of this fic haven't touched. By which I mean, of course, that levi and eren are actually a super lovey dovey couple. And Levi is a big sap. Oh well, we all know his cold exterior is a farce.
> 
> I wrote half this chapter the day after the last time I updated, then didn't touch it for months. I'm sorry ;; I know where this fic is going (I say this like I haven't from the beginning. Well, funny story actually…), it's just a matter of actually sitting down to write it.

 

_Levi's POV_

Over the past few months it had begun to feel like he and Eren were seeing less and less of each other, slowly drifting apart. That hadn't done anything to change his feelings- only scared him and, if anything, made them stronger. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, he'd heard. Perhaps it was true. What was definitely true, though, that Levi felt a hundred times better now that he was talking to Eren every day, seeing him more often than not.

Levi felt like he'd sort of disappeared when Eren might have needed him most. There were reasons for that- both of their schedules had filled and Eren had walled himself off (which, Levi now realized, should've been a warning sign). But he wanted to be around as much as possible now to keep anything close to that ever happening again. And he really liked seeing a lot of Eren.

Eren seemed happier, too. According to Mikasa, he'd opened up again to her and Armin, and his therapist said they'd made a leap in terms of recovery progress. But most importantly, Levi could see the changes. More often than not, Eren gave people real smiles. He laughed until he was breathless. His grades began to go up again. It was a slow change. There was still a lot of progress to be made and still days where he didn't want to get out of bed, but they were fewer and farther in between. The good effects of therapy were beginning to really surface.

Most importantly, Eren seemed like he was finally falling back into the pattern that was living, not simply existing. Levi didn't want him to ever let go of that.

Eren's therapy ended at one. Levi had come to pick him up after asking Mikasa if he was free for the rest of the day. He had promised to go out the next time they both had a free day, after all. Levi had ended up a few minutes early, so he sat in the waiting room, absentmindedly people-watching.

Some of the people here weren't the cheeriest. Two girls were sitting together in the corner, a freckled brunette and a petite blonde. The blonde stared blankly at her lap, and the brunette held her hand tightly whilst casting threatening glares around the room. Levi sort of felt like he could relate to her protective expression when she glanced at the smaller girl.

He didn't like the atmosphere. He'd been uncomfortable with places like this since his parents passed, way back when he was little. He had muddled memories of hospitals and social workers and psychologists, finally being sent off to live with an aunt he'd never met. Her two kids, Isabel and Farlan, did not particularly care for him, although his aunt had treated him well. She'd died while he was studying abroad, and he and his cousins had more or less cut ties after he graduated.

It hadn't really phased him, honestly. Sure, he had mourned his aunt. She'd been kind to him and taken him in with open arms and a willingness to take him in as her own. But Levi hadn't let himself get close to anyone, until he came back to America.

Then he'd met Hani and Erwin, through them others who he considered sane enough (usually) to trust. He'd long since worked through his issues, after all. But then came Eren. They'd first met when he was an obnoxious high school sophomore of a brat. Levi had kept his distance, but Eren didn't seem to grasp the concept of "unwelcome". He should've seen right away how stubborn the kid was. Admittedly, it hadn't taken Levi very long to start enjoying the his presence, and then they were friends and that was that. Eren was everywhere, everything. Eren was different than anyone he'd ever known. Hotheaded and painfully honest, energetic and wild and new. Eren was unique. Eren held his own share of mysteries, and despite the plethora of questions he asked at first, he knew how to hold a comfortable silence. He knew when to back down and when not to give up. Maybe it was about the time he started college that Levi started developing legitimate feelings for him.

Levi realized now, though, that he hadn't even known half of what went on in Eren's head. He still didn't. Despite seeming so carefree, he'd actually been dealing with chronic depression; long enough, it seemed, for things to spiral out of control and end up where they had. Levi had dealt with his own share of issues in his life- numbness, night terrors, anger and loneliness after the accident. But nothing had ever driven him to the point that Eren had been to. It was frightening to imagine.

He was yanked out of his thoughts by the sound of his name. He looked up, seeing Eren walking towards him. He stopped a foot away and gently pressed two fingers between Levi's eyebrows. "What're you frowning about?"

Levi stood up. "Nothing. I came to pick you up, seeing as we're both free after this. You still owe me a date."

Eren's face lit up like a little kid's after being invited to a birthday party. "Where're we going?"

Somewhere that he'd mentioned he loved when he was younger, a place that Levi had been to with him once before and witnessed him revert back to being a little kid. A little kid filled to the brim with wonder and curiosity for the world. As sappy as that all sounded even in his head, he wanted Eren to experience that again. So he'd planned this, knowing that it was a childish idea for a date, but deciding that being childish for a few hours sounded awfully nice. "You'll see when we get there." He stepped around him to greet his therapist, who had followed him out. She smiled at him cordially.

"Hello. Levi, right? We haven't met before, I think, but Eren's told me about you. I'm Mina."

Levi nodded in greeting, wondering what exactly Eren had said about him to her. She seemed nice enough, but he couldn't be more eager to get out of there, so he took Eren's hand to lead him off. "Well, we've got places to be Eren, come on." Eren huffed at him and waved to Mina, letting himself be tugged along. Levi felt like he could breathe a little easier as soon as he walked through the doors.

"Where exactly are we going?" Eren asked as they pulled out the parking lot in Levi's car.

"A trip, Eren, in our favorite fucking rocket ship. I already told you that you'll find out when we get there."

Eren snorted, and Levi saw him roll his eyes. "I can't believe you actually said that. Fine, I see how it is."

"You'll like it, trust me." That effectively ended that conversation, and they chatted idly the rest of the way (except for when Eren suggested a place they might be heading towards, which Levi always replied to with a no). When they finally drove under the sign to the parking lot, Eren whipped his head around so fast he probably risked a crick in his neck.

"The aquarium?" The excitement in his voice made Levi fight to keep from smiling.

"Like the sign says."

"I'm gonna kiss you."

Levi didn't blush, positively not. His ears didn't turn the slightest shade of pink. Eren was a very physical-contact orientated person, even more so as a lover. He'd quickly gotten used to that fact (and didn't mind it in the slightest, but he kept that part to himself) Levi had to press his hand against Eren's chest to keep him from coming any closer than he already had. "Christ, wait until I park the goddamn car." He did, but as soon as Levi pulled the keys out of the ignition he felt Eren's hand under his chin, tilting his head so he could mesh their lips together.

It didn't last very long, probably because Eren was too excited to sit in the car, but Levi didn't really mind. He had Eren to himself now, after all. He could get a kiss whenever he wanted.

That thought made him smugger than it should've.

The aquarium wasn't ridiculously crowded, thank fuck. And Levi supposed it wasn't filthy, so long as one kept away from the railings and smudgy glass. Families and a few young couples milled about, creating a murmur of voices throughout the area.

The fish were certainly beautiful. The area they were in now was dimly lit, with walls of glass separating the viewers from the exotic, uniquely patterned fish. Their scales glittered as they swam through recreated habitats, occasionally flitting up the the glass. There were hundreds of them.

But the real beauty to Levi's eyes was Eren.

Eren had rambled on about how long it'd been since he'd come here, and how much he loved aquariums, and how cool the fish were. But as soon as they'd actually gotten inside, he'd gone silent. His wide eyes fell on the fish and that was it- he was captivated. He kept his hold on Levi's hand and gently lead him slowly through the tanks. He didn't say much other than to occasionally point a particular fish out, only watching the water and sea creatures.

Levi preferred to watch him, being the old sappy fuck that he was.

The way Eren leaned towards the water and craned his neck to watch as one particular fish slipped out of sight among the seaweed. He looked like he could stand there for hours, gazing into the water.

They walked into a tunnel, suddenly finding themselves surrounded by glittering fish and tons and tons of water. Levi almost felt claustrophobic, imagining the weight of the water pressing down on his from all sides, but Eren...Eren looked like he could be absorbed through the glass and not notice a thing.

He let out a tiny sigh as Levi led him out, seeing as he'd stopped right in the middle of the walkway. "They're so pretty. It's like another world."

Levi hummed in agreement. "C'mon, let's go see the jellyfish."

Eren smiled, distracted by the promise of more wonders. "Oh, I love those. Have you seen the glowing ones? I'll show you. They're like tiny stars."

Rather like his eyes, Levi thought.

The last thing they saw were the sharks, which Eren seemed most smitten by. He'd oogled at the fluttering jellyfish and admired the sea turtles, but now he was practically pressed up to the slanted glass that acted as a window to the murky pit that was the shark tank. The greatest source of light seemed to be coming from the tank itself, illuminating Eren's face as he leaned over the railing, peering into the depths through the glass.

The wall of glass reached from the floor to the ceiling and stretched along the width of the wide room, opening it up to the depths. A small variety of sharks swam around, sometimes hard to see until the light caught them a certain way. They stayed relatively close to the sandy bottom, sometimes venturing along the side of the glass or further towards the top of the tank. Looking down at them, Levi thought that their habitat seemed rather barren. Compared to the tropical habitats they'd seen, there wasn't much to look at. There wasn't as much color as the other fish had had, and none of the delicacy of the jellyfish. But in place of all that was a subdued kind of power. None of these sharks looked particularly dangerous, but they were graceful in their movements and powerful in appearance. They needed no aesthetically pleasing rocks and flowering anemone; they held all the attention on their own.

Levi leaned against the railing, turning his attention to Eren again. His eyes traveled back and forth, following no one creature in particular. He looked somber in comparison to earlier, when he'd smiled whimsically and seemed to revel in the colors and brightness, but he looked just as enraptured.

"All the fish are so bright and colorful, but these are the one's I'd want to paint the most," he announced, turning to look at Levi and smiling lopsidedly at him. "What're you staring at, anyway?"

Levi averted his gaze to the sharks. "Nothing." Eren's fingers threaded through his again, and then a mop of brown hair fell gently onto his shoulder.

"Thanks for taking me here," he said happily. "I like going out with you."

"Mmhm. We'll do it again. Let's go?"

Eren nodded, and led Levi out of the dimly lit room by the hand.

"Mikasa's at Annie's. She won't be back until later."

Levi leaned against the steering wheel and smirked at Eren. "Are you inviting me in?"

"Yeah, if you want to, at least."

"I think I'll stay in here, where I know it's safe and orderly." Eren rolled his eyes and hit Levi's arm before clambering out of the car.

"Geez, you make it sound like we live in a toxic waste disposal area. You coming or not?" Levi didn't reply, but he got out of the car and followed Eren inside.

Eren went straight to the refrigerator. "You want anything?"

"No." Levi kicked his shoes off by the door and sat on the couch, watching Eren scuffle around the kitchen. As he poured himself a glass of juice, he stopped and picked up a square of paper from the counter- an envelope. His brows pinched together and the corner of his lip pulled up.

"Why that look of disgust?" Levi asked, folding his arms over the back of the couch. Eren shook his head and dropped the envelope.

"He finally noticed that he'd fucking 'forgotten' to send money for the last four fuckin' months." He chugged his drink and set the glass down, too firmly so the sound rang out in the room. "Big surprise there. I'll bet he's real sorry." The couch dipped under his weight.

Levi wrapped his arms around Eren. Mikasa and Eren's dad (well, Mikasa's second father), whose name Eren had never told him, had a lot of problems; the first of which was that he was too good-for-nothing to consistently support his kids even a little. Levi hadn't ever even seen a picture of him, but he knew the last time he visited was just before Eren started college. As soon as Eren and Mikasa had turned eighteen, he'd stopped checking in every few months. He was supposed to send money every month, but that obviously didn't happen. Hell knew what the fucker was up to; they all had their own unvoiced theories.

Eren acted like it had no effect on him; he said that his dad had never really been around anyway, but there were times when it obviously bothered him. He didn't like talking about it, nor did Mikasa, so Levi didn't pry. Still, he felt like giving the asshole a good punch to the jaw if he ever had the misfortune to meet him.

He didn't have anything to tell Eren though, because what was one supposed to say about this kind of thing? There was nothing to say, so he just kissed Eren's temple comfortingly. At least he understood what it was like to lose your folks.

"This is so dumb."

"What is?"

Eren gestured vaguely into the air. "Everything. Life. Kiss me again."

"It's good that you work with paint and not words," Levi said, tilting the other's chin. Eren snorted and pressed their lips together, sliding his arms around Levi's shoulders.

They kissed lazily for a few minutes, breathing each other in. Eren's lips still tasted like apple juice, and his fingers felt nice against Levi's scalp. Eren willing let Levi's tongue into his mouth and sighed softly around it. A shiver ran down Levi's spine and he slid his hands down Eren's sides to his hips. He nipped at his lower lip and pulled back briefly, only to attach his mouth to Eren's jaw.

Eren hummed pleasantly as Levi kissed along the line of his jaw to his throat. Levi could feel his pulse against his lips, faster than usual, and grazed his teeth over the spot. Eren's breath hitched slightly, and the way his fingers tightened in Levi's hair told him that he was doing well.

Maybe a bit too well, but they had time…

Eren's hands cupped the sides of Levi's face and pulled him into another eager kiss, mostly tongue and all passion. Levi watched him through half-closed eyes, and when Eren's slid open he held his gaze as he pushed him back against the cushions. Thick lashes fell over green orbs again and Eren moaned, sending another jolt down Levi's spine.

But as soon as he slid his fingers under Eren's shirt, pushing it slowly upwards, he froze underneath him. Levi pulled back, propped himself up on his hands and looked down at Eren. He was flushed, panting and looking off to the side nervously. His hands fiddled nervously with the hem of his shirt, pulling it back down.

Levi brushed his cheek with his thumb. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied, too quickly. "I just…"

"I'm not going to do anything you don't want to."

Eren shook his head, still averting his eyes. "No, no I want to just...not...not right now. Okay?"

Levi pressed his lips to his forehead. "Okay." He sat back, letting Eren straighten himself out. He reached for the remote and turned the TV on, and kissed Eren's hair when he snuggled up to him. He turned his eyes to whatever episode of "American Horror Story" Eren was putting on. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Eren rubbing his hand over his sleeve- something he did when something was bothering him.

Levi wondered what it was.

_Eren's POV_

He hadn't meant to seize up at all.

Eren put making out with Levi right up there with eating frosting out of the jar and sleeping in on holidays. It was better than those things, actually. It hadn't been so great sitting there awkwardly turned on for a while, but it was his own fault.

As soon as Levi's fingers had touched the skin of his torso it was like every scar he'd made suddenly lit up. How the fuck was he supposed to let Levi see the absolute mess he'd made of his body? He didn't like looking at them- like hell anyone else would. Levi didn't want to fucking see all that shit. Eren didn't want anyone to see it either.

But how was he to explain something like that? He couldn't. As much as he wanted to be intimate with Levi...how could he?

Looking in his bathroom mirror now, his shirt bunched up in his hands, he wanted to puke. He vehemently hated every pale line that ran along his arms and hips and sides, and he wanted nothing,  _nothing_  more, than to erase them all.

He wished he could've stopped years ago, and he wished he could stop now.

He'd almost been clean since the day he'd bitten up his arm like a monster, and that hadn't scarred horrifically, thankfully. But the newer lines on his left side, just above his hip, had been made five, no, six days ago. If his skin had just itched a little less, if he'd been a little stronger, maybe he'd have been able to make it a month. Maybe he could've made it two, then three, then more...

He hadn't told anyone. He had enough disappointment in himself to cover for the four people he might confess to.

"Dammit. Dammit." Eren sighed, glaring at his disgusting reflection. He'd been okay. He'd been doing well. Hell, he'd been happy, really happy, for a few whole days. He'd thought that the effort was making a difference, however small. Maybe he'd been naive enough to hope that this was a step forward that he wouldn't fuck up with and end up taking two steps backwards, like usual. The constant rain had stopped for a while, light cut in through the darkness even a little bit- and he went and fucked it up again.

Right now, he just wanted to erase himself. Erase Eren Jaeger, because the world wouldn't change at all without him.

And now he hated himself for thinking that, because he knew people would miss him.

Eren put his shirt back on and left the bathroom, deciding that he would be happy if he never had to look at himself again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm sorry if you thought we were finally gonna get some dick action. We did, actually- me being a dick.
> 
> I can't be too nice to Eren, it doesn't work like that. As I said, I know where this fic is going and it's just a matter of writing it... and resisting the urge to scrap and restart it completely. So many errors in the previous chapters ughhh u-u. Anyway, thank you for patience. I did write other stuff during the time I wasn't writing this, so, if that counts as an excuse…you can go read that if you're sad because they didn't screw yet.
> 
> Ah yes, in the waiting room...that was indeed Ymir and Historia. My darlings. I might do a side story for those lovely lesbians. A happy one, you ask? Ha.
> 
> I'm thinking about 10-15 chapters max, which was my plan from the start. My fics usually don't follow my start plan, so this is new. Also, thank you for the reviews! They're very motivating and remind me that people want to read this...even if I update it roughly five times a year ^^'
> 
> P.S. I had some issues uploading this, so if there are any errors, please alert me. Thanks.

**Author's Note:**

> Right I have been posting this on fanfiction and will continue to do so but I finally made an account here and decided 'why the heck not' so yeah. Here I am. I'm honestly sorry if i made you sad.
> 
> My titles are either one word or unnecessarily long there is no in between.


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